Page 143 of Highball Rush
I turned back and shook my head at Callie.
She got out and looked around warily.
“Truck went over the side,” I said.
“Is she…”
“I can’t see much, but I don’t think anyone could have survived.”
Cash jumped out and ran to the edge, barking a few times. Callie joined me on the side of the road and looked down at the wrecked truck.
We didn’t say anything for a long moment. I slipped her hand in mine, wanting her to know I was here. Lending her what strength I could. Hoping she knew she didn’t have to go through this alone.
She never needed to be alone again.
“It’s over,” she said, her voice almost breathless. Turning, she met my gaze. “Gibs, it’s really over.”
I brushed the hair back from her face. “Yeah, honey. It’s over.”
Tears broke free from the corners of her eyes. I pulled her against me and held her tight. Held her while she cried. While her body shuddered with relief, releasing some of the fear and anxiety she’d held onto for so long.
“Thank you,” she said into my chest. “Thank you for saving me.”
“Beautiful girl.” I kissed her head. “Thank you for coming home. You’re the one who saved me.”
43
GIBSON
For the last thirteen years, Bootleg Springs had been famous for two things: Bootlegging and the disappearance of Callie Kendall.
To those of us who lived here, it was known for a lot more. For gossip that traveled as quick as the leaves changed in fall. For nosy, meddling neighbors who were always getting in each other’s business. For resisting change, and not letting go of the past. For people who knew your name and your history.
And for people who stood up, and showed up, for each other. No matter what.
After Judge Kendall’s arrest, and Imogen Kendall’s not-so-tragic end, Bootleg Springs showed up.
They gave us a full day, which was more than I’d expected. We’d gone home that night, after the authorities had arrived on the scene—checked us for injuries and taken our statements. Callie was a bit banged up, but for the most part we were fine. All Callie had wanted was to climb back in bed with me and shut out the world. I’d been more than happy to oblige.
We’d both needed time to recover. To process what had happened. And the next day had dawned bright and beautiful. Or maybe that had just been my girl, smiling at me.
Food showed up on our doorstep, but family and friends had left us alone—mostly. They had assurances that we were fine and seemed to understand that we needed this. Scarlett hadn’t been able to help herself. She’d stopped by once, only for a few minutes, saying she just needed to see us for herself.
In the peace and quiet of my acres of sweet solitude—now shared by the love of my life and our one-eyed dog—we’d rested.
Today, we’d reemerged. And Bootleg was ready.
Because what did good West Virginia folk do when one of their own had been through a crisis? They fed them. And in this case, it wasn’t just me and Callie who’d been through the shit. Granted, we’d probably seen the worst of it. But all us Bodines had been through the ringer this last year or so. The whole town had.
So Bootleg Springs showed up.
Gin Rickey Park was once again buzzing with people. But this time, it looked more like a hoe-down or a town-wide picnic. Lines of tables held enough food to feed at least twice the population of Bootleg. Someone had made FOUND posters with Callie’s old photo on them. Papered them all over the park, along with multicolored balloons.
Kids darted around the grown-ups’ legs and a few old-timers engaged in a friendly—if a little wheezy—debate about the best way to trap a possum. Granny Louisa and Estelle had Devlin cornered by the food tables, fussing over him like… well, like grandmas. A group of women, including Leah Mae and Shelby, clustered together beneath a tree. Callie said they were talking about some new book they’d all been reading.
We sat on a red and white checkered blanket my sister had spread out on the grass. Callie and I shared a big plate of baked macaroni and cheese while Cash sat next to Callie’s feet, gnawing on a bone.
Sheriff Tucker walked by and tipped his hat to me. I nodded. A good man, the sheriff. He and I’d had our run-ins when I was young, but even then, he’d been fair and helped my family out as much as he could. Now, I owed that man a lot. I was glad he was in charge of protecting our town.
